Upon release in March earlier this year, Fall Out Boy’s latest record ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ was hailed by critics and fans as somewhat of a celebration of everything that had made them popular in the first place.
Currently embarking on the So Much (For) Tourdust world tour which has seen the band play North America and Europe so far (with Asia to come), tonight the band play the first of two shows at London’s the O2 Arena. This tour cements the raucous reception of their latest album and then some, with a meticulously crafted performance that truly embraces every era of their two decade long career – in both stage production and set list choice. Thankfully it’s more a resurrection of their spirit than reinvention of their former selves.
After speeding through singles from the heroic ‘Love From The Other Side’ through to emo anthem ‘Sugar We’re Going Down’ (guitarist Joe Trohman has taken much needed creative freedom on the guitar solos here, and throughout the set), a mystical clock on stage left transports Fall Out Boy back to a cramped and dimly lit basement venue for a segment dedicated to their first record, 2003’s ‘Take This To Your Grave’. With the band confined by platforms and a lighting rig that’s been lowered to just above their heads, the intimacy and course sonics of the hardcore punk shows of their early careers are recaptured. Trohman commandeers backing vocals for ‘Dead on Arrival’, ‘Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy’ and ‘Calm Before The Storm’, against screens at the side of the stage now a grainy VHS quality, toned the same turquoise blue as their debut album’s cover. For a band who have historically stated that they don’t like nostalgia or looking back, this was a sweet spot to satisfy both them and their fans, and nod to how far they’ve come.
At the snap of a stagehand, Fall Out Boy seamlessly move to the next act. The stage mirrors their fantastical nature: a slightly eerie, whimsical storybook like production, with hand painted moving parts allowing them to transcend various environments from day to night. This includes an aquarium with bubble guns and rotating starfish, through to an enchanting woodland with a sentient tree, and of course an enormous Doberman’s head like that of the one that features on ‘…Stardust’s album’s cover (cue bassist and lyricist Pete Wentz clambering into its mouth).
What is pertinent about Fall Out Boy’s set tonight, is how much material they play from their back catalogue, and how seamlessly their new songs fit amongst them (the rock opera esque ‘Heaven, Iowa’ feels slightly incomprehensible though). At an especially heartwarming part, the bashful vocalist Patrick Stump is alone on stage, accompanied by a modest, paint chipped grand piano, playing a medley of songs which he tells the crowd was instigated as a dare by Wentz. Stump unpretentiously weaves through ELO’s ‘Mr Blue Sky’ to 2007’s ‘Infinity On High’ piano led ballads ‘I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears and None On My Fingers’ and ‘Golden’, rejoined by his bandmates for the crescendo of the live debut of …Stardust’s title track; an intensely theatrical and gorgeously macabre epic.
After a swift, London apt garage rock cover of Blur’s ‘Song 2’, minus Wentz who minutes earlier disappeared under a cloak after a monologue (he’ll reappear soon for ‘Dance, Dance’), the fourth wall breaking, omnipresent Magic 8 ball is introduced to the crowd, granting every die hard fan’s wish to hear a deep cut from the Fall Out Boy back catalogue. London is treated to two Magic 8 ball songs tonight, 2008’s soaring ‘The Shipped (Gold) Standard’ (which they have never played live before) and 2013’s twee acoustic ditty ‘Young Volcanoes’.
Wentz quickly dismisses the need for an encore to the audience, instead using the time to cram in more of Fall Out Boy’s hit singles. It’s astounding, and rare, for a band to acknowledge the various stages of their career to this extent, giving them as much time as Fall Out Boy have done tonight with such authenticity and honour. Rolled out the way it has tonight, the Chicago quartet have taken the O2 on a stomach churning and indulgent emotional rollercoaster of their lore. But then again, all the greatest performances do.
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Words: Jasleen Dhindsa
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